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“I did?”
“In passing, I think. Tell me about it.”
“Why?” She seemed genuinely perplexed, but she didn’t try to draw away. She even started eating with her other hand in deference to our position.
“I want to get to know you. It’s not just about your panties.”
Her lips twitched as she shot me a glance. “The ones you wish I wasn’t wearing?”
“Tell me. Please.”
She jerked a shoulder. “I’ve just always drawn. It’s a hobby and an escape. A way to process my chaotic life.”
“What was chaotic about it?”
“You can’t possibly care.”
“I care, Ryan.” I went back to eating to give her the space to speak.
She frowned, an expression that almost seemed foreign on her face. Her relaxed features were meant to reflect happiness and pleasure and clever humor. “I was the odd kid. The weird goth chick. Kind of the opposite of my mom. Her name’s Rainbow.”
“Rainbow?” I cleared my throat. “Rainbow Moon.”
The corner of her mouth ticked up. “Yeah. She loved me, but she had a million and one things to keep her busy. Especially her rich men.”
It took effort for me not to tighten my grip. An emotion that felt disturbingly like shame made me take a deep breath. Right then, the last thing I wanted was to be wealthy.
“Where was your dad?”
“Absent. Classic story. We moved around a lot in our van, and things weren’t real stable financially. You know, lonely only kid growing up by her wits, doing what she could to get by.”
I rubbed my thumb against the side of her hand. “Were you safe?”
“No one hurt me.” She let out an unsteady laugh. “Nothing that lasted anyway. I did stupid stuff, but I didn’t land in jail. I didn’t get in serious trouble.”
I needed to do something to lighten the heaviness I’d invited into our meal. That was the last thing I wanted. I just craved to know more about her than the information in her resumé.
“So, you never got taken to the station for public lewdness?”
Her laughter rolled through me, loosening the muscles in my shoulders that had gone stiff. “Definitely not.” She smirked. “Though if I keep hanging around with my new crowd, it could happen.”
“Crowd of one?”
She inclined her chin toward the carrier. “Two.”
“How did you get into tarot?”
“Oh, boy, you’re really fishing, huh? Scared I was serious when I told your daddy I was a witch?”
“No. I find it fascinating. Witchcraft has so many different facets, and the connection to nature is—” I stopped when her fingers clamped down hard on mine, hard enough to hurt. “What?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend to give a shit about things that matter to me to soothe your conscience about wanting me. It doesn’t have to be that deep.”
“So, I’m supposed to find my joy as long as I don’t get too close? Don’t step on your toes and dent your protective shield? Or are these therapy sessions supposed to be one-sided?”
